


Nothing Special

by grantaireible



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Diners, Fluff, Grantaire pov, M/M, POV Second Person, Pie, sudden realization of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 15:39:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3416180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grantaireible/pseuds/grantaireible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joly’s munching on his rabbit food and he’s staring at the rain and you’re trying to resume eating your banana cream pie – best in the tri-county area, the waitress said – but you can’t because he’s staring out of the window at the damn rain and that bothers you. You don’t know why, but it bothers you. And it shouldn’t, and you realize this, but it does and you can’t help but wonder.</p><p>Why?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Special

**Author's Note:**

> this is actually from an old vignette that - surprisingly - has won awards, so i was like "i'm going to give it new life and rework it holla at me" but that's also why it's so ridiculously short so sorry about that

It’s not a special moment. There are no fireworks when it happens, no stars in their eyes. No clear skies and sunsets. In fact, it’s miserable outside when it happens, the sky drearily and unbearably grey; the rain dismal as the light pitter-patter of it reaches your ears, the raindrops like fingertips tapping the window. The clank and clatter of forks on plates scratch at your nerves as you listen to Joly making half-assed – and halfhearted, at this point – jibes at your eating habits. And he’s quiet, which is unusual. He’s stiff, every inch the posture of a war weary soldier – always so undeniably straight, straight, straight. And he's staring. Staring at the rain as it _tap tap taps_ on the window of a nameless diner in a nameless town in a nameless county somewhere in the middle of a state you can’t remember somewhere in the middle of America. Oklahoma maybe. The roadtrip was Courfeyrac's idea.

It’s not a special moment.

Joly’s munching on his rabbit food and he’s staring at the rain and you’re trying to resume eating your banana cream pie – best in the tri-county area, the waitress said – but you can’t because he’s staring out of the window at the damn rain and that bothers you. You don’t know why, but it bothers you. And it shouldn’t, and you realize this, but it does and you can’t help but wonder.

Why?

And it’s not a special moment, but it is. When those oceans of blue turn on you – darker than usual, you notice, because everything seems so dulled down today; but that’s right, that’s better, he’s staring at you, as he should be – it is. It’s not a special day or a special place. There’s no fireworks or starry-eyed bullshit. It’s just you and he and Joly's incessant worrying and you’re in a fucking nameless diner in fucking Oklahoma. And it’s not special, but it is.

Because you –

You love him. You love him so fucking much. And you’ve lived long enough to know that that’s special. So it’s not some moment of grandeur, but it is special in a way you can’t define and it’s–

Well, it’s good.

In fact, it’s so good that you let Joly’s bullshit nagging slide as you slide your plate over to him because you know he won’t admit it, but he loves pie, and you’re feeling generous. Besides, banana cream is his favorite. And he may or may not be yours.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi and give me prompts at my [tumblr](http://grantaireible.tumblr.com/)


End file.
